Oh Blog, How I Have Neglected You...

I apologize for my distance, things have been crazy, but you've never left my mind.

Am I forgiven?

Oh, good then.

Anyway, since my last blog post (which will from now on be referred to as "Epic-BEDA-Fail"), several things have happened. I've graduated from the community college I've been attending (and led the freaking procession... who's a badass? This girl right here!), completely annihilated all of my finals, read countless books, took on more hours at work, and finished my various transfer applications - so far, with nothing to show for it.

So now, I'm simply waiting to hear from them, waiting to know whether or not I'll be able to leave my job dumping bladder pads, meat and tortilla shells into ("paper, or plastic?") bags, smiling so much that my cheeks feel swollen and freezing my toes off for $7.75 an hour, pack my bags and flee to the first college that mails me an acceptance letter.

As whiny and contrived as this may sound, I'm starting to feel like if I don't leave my area soon... I'll probably never get out of here. You know that Thomas Wolfe book, You Can't Go Home Again? Yeah... well... that doesn't quite apply to my town. It's essentially the Palm Springs of New York, and, while beautiful and quaint, it is still just a place where people come to die. I'm sure that once I'm gone and look back on all the time I spent splashing around in the three-foot-deep creek with all three of the teenagers that lived in town with me, drinking Busch Light and tequila under a pavillion at the Fireman's Park that nobody uses and watching Grounded For Life in my friend's basement every effing day of my freshman year of high school, I'll miss it.

Actually, no, I probably won't. What little time I've spent in cities has made me realize that that's where I belong, a place where everything is truly alive and going at all hours of the day, where there's always something happening and silence isn't an issue. Because, even though I plan on working with deaf people... they're the loudest group of people I've ever been around.

I want to be somewhere that will shake the death off of my skin, where I can stretch out my legs and explore a town that consists of more than three connected streets, a swingset and a post office. Somewhere where not everyone will know me, where I can just start over fresh and actually do things that make me happy without having to explain myself to everyone.

To quote Beth (also known as Ginger Tits and Jessica Rabbit), "[I'm] a goldfish...'cause [I'm] in a tiny bowl. So [I've] gotta get in a big bowl, and [I'll] expand and grow."

I need to switch tanks, because living in this tiny goldfish bowl is making me feel cramped.